


Help from Mommy

by killingg_eve



Series: Oksana & Mommy [4]
Category: Killing Eve (TV 2018)
Genre: F/F, Mommy Kink, NSFW, filthy and soft coexist, i need to write something Warm y'know, it's -4 degrees fahrenheit, just straight-up unfiltered mommy kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-14 17:20:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29422236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/killingg_eve/pseuds/killingg_eve
Summary: Eve hears Oksana struggling, then helps in every way she can.--NSFW, mommy kink
Relationships: Eve Polastri/Villanelle | Oksana Astankova
Series: Oksana & Mommy [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2069202
Comments: 12
Kudos: 58





	Help from Mommy

**Author's Note:**

> Good evening, I hope everyone is doing well.  
> I'm just . . . really cold. It's the only thought on my mind, besides this smut.
> 
> I hope everyone is surviving the COVID isolation winter. What a time to be alive! I'm struggling, and I know everyone is struggling, and I just wanted to put a little message in here . . . Everything will be okay! Hang in there, take care of yourself, do things that make you feel good (*cough* like read smut). We are already so close to spring.
> 
> Love you and look forward to your comments! Let me know how you're doing. I always like to make friends on twitter (@killingg-eve).

Eve is pretty sure she knows what she’s hearing.

As Eve walks down the hall, carrying a basket of laundry against her hip, she is distracted by a high-pitched (yet muffled) sound. The sound comes from the bedroom, of course. As Eve stops herself by the door and presses her ear to it, she is pretty sure she knows.

The sound is mewing. Breathy, gasping, shaky moans. The sounds themselves are inconsistent; maybe fifteen seconds apart, with silence in between. The sequence of sounds repeats itself like a broken record.

Eve sets the laundry basket down, and she knows that she’s abandoning the load of whites that is already sloshing around in the washer. She knows the dishwasher will finish its cycle, too, with nobody there to empty it. She knows that all of the chores will have to wait until later—maybe even tomorrow.

“V?” Eve calls. She knocks on the door softly.

“ _Mmm_!” Villanelle whines.

Eve turns the handle quietly and opens the door.

“ _Ma—Mmm—Mmm—Ma,_ ” Villanelle breathes between gasping breaths. Her legs are open, and her hand does not stall, even in Eve’s presence. That is, she’s still trying.

Eve observes her. Eve sees what’s happening, now.

Oksana flicks her clit with two fingertips. Up and down; fast and hard. And then her body begins to shake. Her hips buck off of the bed, and her legs vibrate. And then she whines and mews, chasing moments of pleasure, but needing to remove her hand and wait patiently. When the sensation subsides, she tries again. Flicking, stopping, shaking, whining. The cycle repeats itself.

Eve thinks there would be no end to it, if she doesn’t intervene.

“Baby!” Eve calls, taking quick steps to the side of the bed.

“ _Mo—mmy_ ,” Oksana whines, quietly, as she breathes carefully and waits to try again.

“My little girl’s all messy,” Eve says with sympathy.

And it’s true; Oksana’s inner thighs glisten. Her arousal is shiny and evident—overwhelmingly so.

“You having trouble finishing?” Eve asks. “Do you want Mommy to help?”

Oksana nods, and she pants and mewls as the cycle repeats itself, again. She flicks twice and her body shakes. She can hardly stand it, this time, when her clit sends shockwaves that border on pain. If Eve wasn’t here, she might just give up.

“Please!” she responds. And then, “Mommy!” she adds, addressing Eve.

Eve sits on the side of the bed. She leans down and kisses Oksana deeply and slowly. She threads her arm around Oksana’s middle, hugging her.

“Do you want Mommy’s mouth, or Mommy’s fingers, or Mommy’s cock?” Eve asks.

“I want Mommy’s cock!” Oksana responds, quickly. Oksana’s request is needy and genuine.

“Okay, baby,” Eve says, pulling herself off of the bed, quickly. She plans to get the toy and harness she needs.

“Mommy!” Oksana cries, grabbing at Eve’s arm.

“It’s okay,” Eve tells her, “I’m just going to get the pretty, pink toy that you like. Keep your hands by your sides,” she instructs, “and play the counting game if you start to feel restless.”

Oksana pouts and sighs, but she lays her arms down by her sides, as she was told. As she hears Eve pulling the buckles of the harness tight, she becomes impatient and needy, just as Eve predicted. She closes her eyes and starts to count. She counts all the way to 93, by the time Eve returns. She thinks that it took too long for Eve to get the toy, and she wants to tell Eve as much, but nothing matters, now—because Eve is perched in front of her, rubbing the pink, silicone shaft along her slit.

It feels good as it runs through her folds. And each time the tip nestles against her clit, it already feels better than what she was doing, before.

“Good girl,” Eve says, quietly, as she notices Oksana relax and close her eyes, enjoying all of the feelings and becoming visibly less tense.

“ _Oh_ ,” Oksana whines, pushing her hips slightly up so she can get more friction. And then she begs, “Please, Mommy,” in a quiet, patient, sincere type of whisper. Her face contorts with the need she feels. She begs with glossy eyes. When Eve continues to run the silicone over her center, Oksana begs, “Please, I need your cock.”

Eve pulls the toy back, guiding the tip to Oksana’s entrance and pressing gently in.

Even with just the tip inside, Oksana whimpers with pleasure. Her back arches off of the bed, and her eyes close.

“Oh my god, baby,” Eve sighs. She leans over Oksana and steadies herself, then starts to move. She begins slowly, rutting the toy all the way inside, to the hilt. “What happened? Why’d you get so messy?”

Oksana feels the toy inside, and the intrusion causes butterflies to rush to her stomach. She reaches for a stuffed teddy bear that sits on the side of the bed, all the way against the wall. She squeezes around the middle of it, until Eve gently takes her hand from the bear and rests in on her own hip. (The message is clear: ‘Hang onto me, instead.’) Then, Oksana answers.

“I was playing with my dolls on the floor,” she says. Her eyes flicker over to the place on the carpet where they still lay, scattered. “I felt all of . . . m-my walls,” she says. “I had a tight feeling in my tummy, and I needed to fix it.”

Eve patiently listens to her baby speak. She focuses on fucking Oksana.

“I _tried_ ,” Oksana continues, whining. “I tried my _best_ , Mommy, but it’s not the same. It’s not the same as _your_ hands and _your_ touches.” She mewls when Eve hits her g-spot. And then she searches Eve’s eyes for understanding of what she shared.

“Sweetheart, why didn’t you call for Mommy?” Eve asks with sympathy and regret. “Why didn’t you tell Mommy that you were having trouble fixing that tight feeling in your tummy? Why didn’t you tell me that you felt empty, that you needed to feel good?” Eve continues moving inside of her, using the full length at a slow pace.

“I didn’t want to . . . b-bother you, Mommy,” Oksana says, quietly. Tears fill her eyes as she forces the words out. “You were cleaning and taking care of us, and I ca—I ca—I ca—” she stutters. She wants to say that she can’t; she can’t disrupt Eve, and she can’t take more from Eve when so much is already being given.

Eve kisses her, somehow knowing all. She stills her pulse inside of Oksana, keeping the toy halfway inside: an amount that she thinks feels comfortable.

“The most important thing to Mommy is Oksana.” Eve ensures that the statement is firm. It borders on scolding.

She sees some tears subtly falling from the corners of Oksana’s eyes, and she wipes them away. She puts her hand on Oksana’s abdomen, slowly rubbing up and down in soothing motions. And then she kisses Oksana, again.

“Next time, tell Mommy that you need to feel good. Never be afraid to get Mommy’s attention. None of those other things matter,” Eve explains. “The only thing that matters is _you_.”

Oksana feels flooded with safety and warmth when Eve says those words, and when Eve rests their foreheads together. She lets out a breath. When Eve pulls back and looks at her, she nods.

“Thank you, Mommy,” she says.

Oksana’s hips buck without her consent, and she can’t help the needy whine that escapes her throat.

“Alright, Angel,” Eve says, her voice velvety and smooth. She leans herself back and begins helping Oksana along, again.

Oksana lets out breathy, soft moans while Eve beckons inside of her. She feels the silicone tap against her g-spot, maneuvering through the tightness of her walls to get there. It feels so good, but she thinks it would feel better if she just—

“Touch yourself, again,” Eve tells her.

“Y-Yes, Mommy,” Villanelle pants, bringing her hand to her clit. She flicks hard and fast with her two fingers, again, and the result is the same—her body quivers at the harshness of it, and she pulls away with a yelp.

Even Eve jolts, stilling her hips and considering whether she should pull out, completely.

“Can Mommy show you?” Eve asks.

Oksana nods. “Please, I want your fingers!” she pleads.

Eve starts rutting the toy into her at a slow pace, again, and then she starts to show and tell.

“Okay,” Eve sighs, at the beginning. “I’m just gonna start by looking at my pretty little girl.” She does exactly that, using her thumb to nudge Oksana further open, then pressing up near Oksana’s pubic bone to expose Oksana’s clit, completely, so she can admire it.

Oksana only takes careful breaths and holds herself still.

“Then, what I usually do with you is take some of this wetness and bring it up here,” Eve says. She knows Villanelle is already soaked, but she wants to gather more, anyway. She presses her thumb near Oksana’s entrance, where she is still fucking her steadily, and she brushes the wetness up and up.

“ _Ah_!” Oksana gasps when Eve’s thumb first makes contact with her most sensitive area.

“And then I’m just gonna make—”

“— _Oh_!—”

“—Some tight little circles right here, on your clit,” Eve says. The sound of Oksana’s moans hits her in the gut. When Eve starts to rub in circles, she notices how Oksana becomes quiet and restless, depending on where she’s stroking.

“You might have to search for a bit,” Eve continues, “but then you’ll find—”

“— _A-Ah_!—”

“—The perfect spot. For you, it’s right here,” Eve says, trying to keep her voice steady among everything that is happening. Eve knows Villanelle’s body perfectly; she brushes her thumb over the underside of Oksana’s clit, a little bit off to the side. Oksana’s high-pitched, pleasured whines satisfy Eve.

Eve continues making circles, closer to the spot.

“I know that you don’t mind the circling motions, but I know my baby better than that. I know you like wh—”

Villanelle wails, “— _Eve, Eve, Eve! Oh my—!_ ”

“—When Mommy strokes that sweet spot up and down.” And then, “ _Yeah_ ,” Eve moans, sickly sweet.

(Eve doesn’t even mind that Villanelle didn’t say ‘Mommy’ because of the way her own name sounds when Villanelle shrieks in pleasure.)

“ _Oh my—Oh my g-god, Mommy!—Oh my—_ ” she takes a sharp inhale between her teeth, _“—Please, please, please, right there, right on my—_ ” She cuts herself off with a gasp.

While Oksana cries out, Eve encourages her with repetitions of “Yeah,” and she hums and nods at Oksana.

“I know you like it exactly like this, baby,” Eve says.

But Eve does not bring Oksana to the edge. Instead, she guides Oksana to try again.

Eve removes her thumb and quietly commands, “Taste yourself,” pushing the pad of her thumb into Oksana’s mouth to clean. She kisses Oksana, afterwards, and hums at the ghost of the taste. Then, she says, “Make yourself feel good, like I showed you.”

Oksana hesitantly brings her middle finger to rest on her clit, and she gasps a bit when she touches it. She immediately backs off, but then presses down again, gently, and starts to move.

“Should I do the circles, Mommy?” she asks.

Eve nods, thinking that would be best.

Oksana makes gentle, careful circles. She pays attention to how her nerve endings react to the pressure and speed of her own touch. And she doesn’t feel herself start to shiver or shake, this time. Instead, it feels good and soft and . . . her skin feels like velvet, under her fingertip.

“Yeah, baby,” Eve says, simply, focusing herself back on the task of sliding silicone into slick heat.

As Oksana grows comfortable, she audibly responds, more. Her whines turn to gasps, which evolve into careful moans that her body responds to, depending on what sound leaves her throat. And the timing of her breathing dictates how the cock feels inside of her, and how much pressure her clit can take.

“Yes,” Eve says, through it all. “Good girl . . . right there,” she encourages. “ _Mmm_ ,” Eve hums, “You look so good when you do that. What a pretty girl!” Eve praises her effortlessly, her voice sing-songing a bit.

“Sh-Should—I—flick?” Oksana asks, her words seeming to mesh into one word because she is so aroused.

“Whatever you want, baby,” Eve says, “whatever makes you feel good.”

Oksana decides to rub her favorite spot up and down. Her finger glides over the bundle of nerves, nudging against the most sensitive area with each stroke. While her touches are sure and blunt, they remain gentle in a way that she wasn’t able to achieve, before.

“ _M-Mommy_?” Oksana whines, urgently.

“Yes, sweetie?”

“Can I p-please curse?”

Eve doesn’t pause to think, only replies, “Yes.”

Oksana starts to dialogue freely, almost as though she is alone—although she knows that Eve is here, still, listening.

“ _Oh my god_ ,” Villanelle croaks, “that feels so good on my— _fuck_!” she says.

Her head falls back and she breathes heavily, but she clamps her eyes closed and everything continues. Everything continues to build.

“That fucking spot on my— _oh_ — _shit!_ ” she exclaims, working even harder and faster, still.

“Yes, babygirl!” Eve breathes, rutting hard and deep.

“Mommy!” she cries, “fuck my— _ah_! Oh my—oh _fuck_ , fuck my cunt!” And then, in an incomprehensive haze, she strokes herself faster and yells, “I’m gonna—my clit—it’s gonna—I’m gonna—I—I—My clit’s go—I’m gonna c—ome,” and she pleads, “Mommy, please!”

It’s too late by the time the request reaches Eve. Oksana’s mouth drops open and her hand pulls away from her center, and her eyes get big, and then she just holds her expression for a long moment. She looks into Eve’s eyes while she comes.

Eve stills the toy as Villanelle’s muscles contract around it, and Eve says, “Yes! Yes, baby!” but it’s already too late, and she knows it; she just doesn’t want Oksana to believe that she did anything wrong. She wants Oksana to feel good in every way. Oksana looks at her for a long moment, surely feeling her way through mind-numbing aftershocks of the orgasm.

When the moment passes, and Oksana’s eyes flicker closed, and her head drops forward, Eve leaps into action. She carefully removes the toy from her lover. And then she’s bringing herself closer to Oksana, kissing her forehead and her cheek and her lips.

“That’s my good girl,” Eve whispers. She reaches her arms around Oksana—one around her middle, and the other around her neck. She holds her.

And time doesn’t exist while Eve holds her, or while Oksana is fully anchored by Eve’s nurturing grasp.

Eve lies herself down by Oksana and quietly invites, “Come here.”

With Eve’s nudging, guiding hands, Oksana winds up lying with her back to Eve’s chest. Eve’s arms circle around her stomach. She feels warm and loved as Eve exhales on her shoulder, near the back of her neck.

Eve whispers the sweetest things, then. Her words drip with honey. “My wonderful baby,” and, “Such a good job for me,” and, “My love.” And others, still: “That feel good?” “Now, you can make yourself feel good.” Once, Eve even calls her ‘My favorite part of being alive.’

When Oksana rests her hand over both of Eve’s, Eve still doesn’t stop.

“Oh, your hands are cold, sweetheart!” Eve says.

Oksana feels Eve’s weight shift in the mattress as the older woman sits up and pulls the duvet closer. Before Oksana knows it, their warm, featherlight duvet surrounds her. And then there’s Eve, again, holding her.

Oksana hums contentedly and smiles.

“Thank you, Mommy,” Oksana says, squeezing Eve’s hands. She hopes that Eve can hear her (‘Thank you, Eve! Thank you, Eve!’).

Oksana feels Eve hum, in turn, and there are kisses on the back of her neck. And Eve just whispers and whispers soft things in her ear, and she wishes she could stay awake for all of them, but she doesn’t; she can’t. She succumbs to the lull of sleep while Eve envelopes her.


End file.
